The Easiest of Lies
by MissMac
Summary: In the case of the young Annie White, her parents, the only family she had known throughout her life, were about to make a decision that will unearth truths, bring about murder and invoke revenge. As the case progresses, Sherlock must decide if the answers will come in the simplest form or if things are far more complicated than they seem.


Chapter One

Thanks in advance for reading! I'm a bit nervous about tackling this story, but also really excited to expand my writing abilities as well! This story is set sometime between series two episode two and three.

I make no claim to ownership of Sherlock or anything else recognizable.

Enjoy!

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_Family_. Even just an utterance of the word brings forth images to the mind of times, places, faces, events. The few beings that you are told will always be there for you, no matter if you want them or not. Many times the relationships and dynamics in a family will change and alter, constantly providing new support or creating new challenges. Resistance to these changes often puts a small break in the glass of an otherwise flawless window, an otherwise flawless family. As with everything, once a person pulls away, resists being changed by their family's choices or words or actions, the crack widens and grows until all that is left is an empty windowsill and shards of glass scattered.

In the case of Annie White, her parents, the only family she had known throughout her life, were about to make a decision that would unearth truths, bring about murder and invoke revenge.

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Arthur White was a fidgety man, by nature. He was always able to find some string on his clothes to wrap a finger around, or some surface to tap his nails against. Even now as he sat next to his wife in the taxi, the knuckles of his right hand knocked in a steady rhythm against his dark trousers. He hadn't been sure what to wear for this sort of occasion, but his wife, his Georgina, had assured him that a casual suit would suffice. Although one could not be completely sure what exactly to wear for a meeting with the now-famous Sherlock Holmes.

"Come now, dear. It will be fine. We don't even know if he'll help us." Georgina's manicured fingers entwined with the ones on Arthur's left hand. His right continued to fidget as she spoke. "Arthur, really now, she's my daughter too and you don't think this has me worried?"

"You know I can't help it, Georgina. Hell, I'm not bloody nervous I just need to fidget!" Arthur took a calming breath in before speaking once more, never looking at his wife. "You know how many times I've told you that."

"Yes, dear." Georgina's voice was clipped in her reply, removing her hand from Arthur's in favor of pulling out a mirror from her purse and flattening her blonde hair. She had chosen a new salon and was very happy with the results of the color. She was not happy that her husband had yet to notice. Arthur brought his hands up to rub his tired eyes, his nerves on edge over the meeting the pair of them were about to attend. He took a cue from his wife and flattened his own graying hair just as the taxi slowed to a stop.

The couple had not been young when their daughter, their Annie, was born, but they had not intended to ever have children. Arthur had made the decision when the two had gotten married, and Georgina was only able to agree. She hadn't minded the thought, being proud of her youthful figure, but as couple around them started to have children, the want for a baby hit her hard. Georgina blamed their current situation on her foolish tricks and deceitful ways all those years ago. Every lie comes at a price, and it seemed that she was paying hers.

The couple exited the taxi, with Arthur paying the cabbie before the pair made their way over to the door with '221' inscribed over it. Arthur's hand was firm as he knocked hard three times. Georgina felt her heart drop to the ground each time his knuckles pounded against the door. She smoothed the invisible wrinkles on the front of her blouse as they waited for a response in silence, with the only noises being the normal sounds of Baker's Street. As the door opened, Georgina unintentionally held her breath and she felt Arthur tense next to her.

"Oh, hello. You must be the White's. Come in, come in. Uh, don't mine the, um," as he was speaking a loud bang was heard coming from the top of the staircase, "noise. Bit of renovation." Georgina let out her breath in a huff, the man before her not being as intimidating as she would have thought him to be. He extended his hand to Arthur. "Mr. White, pleased to meet you. John Watson, we spoke on the phone?" Arthur let out a nervous cough before extending his own hand towards John, the two men sharing a brief handshake.

"Yes, yes, right." Georgina let out a small hum. "Oh, and this is my wife, Georgina." She gave him a small smile as she shook John's hand.

"John Watson. Shall we, uh?" John clapped his hands together before pointing in the direction of the staircase. "Right." He headed up the steps, the White's following hesitantly behind him as the bangs turned to crashes above them. John walked confidently to the top of the stairs, entering the room through the open door. "Sherlock, the Whites are here to speak with you."

Arthur and Georgina walked cautiously through the mess of books and cushions that were sprawled across the doorway. Mrs. White's heels crunched on a piece of glass while Mr. White's foot brushed a book out of his path. Amongst the chaos and rubble a man sat in a cushioned chair, staring at them as if the room didn't look like a war-zone. Arthur took a step closer to Sherlock, clearing his throat a bit before he began to speak.

"Mr. Holmes, it's a pl-."

"No." Sherlock's deep voice cut off Arthur, the older man looking dumbfounded. Both Arthur and Georgina turned towards John as a silent plea for an explanation.

"No?" John narrowed his eyes a bit, cocking his head to the side as he looked to Sherlock.

"No."

"Sherlock, just hear their case."

"John."

"You've already said no? But you haven't even listened to what we have to say." Sherlock changed his stare from John to Georgina, blankly watching her as if her words had not affected him. He looked to her as an adult looks to a child that has interrupted their conversation. "We've come all this way to see you, to beg you for help, and you won't hear us out?"

"Oh, now, Mrs. White do you really expect me to believe that you had planned on _begging_ on your knees while wearing _those_ heels? Think before you use exaggerated words."

"Sorry, he's in a bit of a mood." Sherlock stood up quickly upon hearing John's words directed at the Whites.

"I am not in a mood. I am just choosing not to deal with anymore worthless cases that start out with poorly shaven middle-aged men, and woman with bad dye jobs who exaggerate about coming here to _beg_ for help." Sherlock turned his attention onto Georgina. "Yes, Mrs. White, you should not have trusted the new stylist, I suggest returning your business to the previous one." Sherlock sat back down, turning his attention back on John as he bridged his fingers in front of his eyes. "No, John, I will not hear their case." Before John could respond, Georgina made a loud production of kicking the floor clear in front of her before kneeling down, the skirt she wore making the act a bit difficult.

"Mr. Holmes? I'm on. my. knees. Begging. Please. Hear our case." Sherlock remained silent for a moment, the edges of his lips slightly turned upwards as he starred into Georgina's deep blue eyes.

"Unexpected." Sherlock continued to stare at Mrs. White as he, once again, remained silent. Just as Arthur opened his mouth to speak, Sherlock's voice broke the silence. "Two minutes." Arthur bent down and helped his wife to stand upon Sherlock's declaration.

"Thank you, Mr. Ho-."

"No, you get one minute. She gets two."

"Three minutes, Sherlock? That's all you'll give them? Not much they can say in three minutes."

"John, do you ever listen?" Sherlock let his head fall back against the chair, his eyes staring wide open at the ceiling. He spoke in a whispered voice, more to himself than the other occupants in the room. "Just like children, have to spell it all out in a nice picture book." He lifted his head to look at the three silent people before him, now speaking loud enough for them to hear. "Either Mr. White gives me your case in one minute _or_ Mrs. White gives me your case in two minutes. Not both." Sherlock dropped his eyes to the ground for a moment, his voice lowered to a whisper once more. "Don't think I could handle hearing them both speak."

"Why does she get—"

"Two minutes to your one, Mr. White? _Because_ women take twice as long to say the same thing that men say."

"Don't take any offense to that, Mrs. White."

"Nothing for dear Mrs. White to take offense to, John. It's only the truth spoken aloud. Now, which of you will speak?"

"I wi—."

"Changed my mind, Mrs. White…plead your case."

"Thank you. It's about my daughter, Annie. She's…well…she's like you, Mr. Holmes."

"Doubtable." Georgina cleared her throat but otherwise continued on without acknowledging that Sherlock had spoken.

"Always bright as a girl. As she grew old, her friends would call her a freak because of how smart she was…is. She just…knows things. Solving problems from nothing. At one point there was a teacher…well, our Annie blossomed under his instruction. It was…it was like she had a gift of reading minds or something. Things were wonderful until…until she changed. The teacher left the school and Annie…well we are very worried about her, you see. She's already changed from our sweet girl into…into a monster." Sherlock straightened a bit in his chair before crossing one leg over the other.

"You need me to prove her innocence in a murder."

"No. No, no. Annie hasn't murdered anyone."

"Yet." All eyes shot to Arthur as he spoke the one word. To Sherlock, the man had as much as spoken volumes.

"Arthur!" Georgina took a step closer to Sherlock. "Please, Mr. Holmes. Help us with Annie."

"No. She hasn't committed a crime, you just think she will. And you think she's like me, which I really doubt it the truth, and you hope that I'll…mentor her? Take her on as some sort of prodigy! No." Sherlock stood from his chair, making his way into the kitchen without another word. John stood for a moment staring after Sherlock before rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Sorry, seems we won't be taking your case." As if Sherlock had been waiting for John to say those exact words, he came strolling back in and swiftly sat back in his chair.

"There is no case to take! No crime has happened, no murder has been committed! But, because you've literally begged as you said you would I will agree to meeting with your Annie if only to see why you think she is like me. John, please see the Whites out." Sherlock let his head fall back, once more staring up at the ceiling above him.

"Well." John clapped his hands together before motioning the Whites towards the door. Arthur all but ran down the stairs as Georgina made a more graceful exit, John trailing behind them. Arthur was already on the street hailing a taxi by the time John and Georgina arrived in the door way. "He's just in a bit of a mood."

"I have a teenage daughter who has put me through Hell in the last year. I can handle any mood. Thank you for your time, Dr. Watson. Shall I have Annie come around later this week?"

"Yes, uh, how would six o'clock on Thursday sound?"

"Wonderful. Have a good evening, Doctor."

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Any and all feedback is appreciated! Thanks again!


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